The diary of a white girl in Arabia

You Call That A Gun?

Charlie and Lola were invited to a nerf-gun-war this past weekend. Well, technically, Charlie was invited and Lola was allowed to tag along to play with the younger sister of the ring leader. Charlie packed up his nerf-gun-turret and headed out to the taxi that waited to take them down the hill. The Mister was gone to a meeting, so we were vehicle-less, but no worries! Our trusty taxi driver that is always a mere phone call away was more than willing to take the chillins to their action packed event. As Charlie hauled his orange and yellow nerf-turret out to the car, our taxi man said, “Oh, is that what you call a gun? What about this?” as he pulled his hand gun from his waist belt. har har har

Um… yeah.. that happened. And I didn’t know about it until the kids returned home 4 hours later.

Parent of the Year award goes to White Girl for sending her children off packing with a man who is, well, for the lack of better terms, packing. Good on you for safety, there.

I thought you were going to say that the taxi driver pulled out a machine gun. (I always imagine that everyone in the desert is running around with machine guns.) So when I read “hand gun” I didn’t think it was such a big deal. See? You just have to compare the situation with something worse and then it’s all good. 😉